


Memories Are Fickle

by Kona



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Bad end, Deja Vu, F/M, Family, Good End, Timelines, War, War Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kona/pseuds/Kona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were few things in Robin's life that she could remember from before she met Chrom. She never dwells on the memories for too long, She has new memories now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories Are Fickle

**Author's Note:**

> Memories in the Fire Emblem world are so strange. And I think the ones that are the most interesting are the ones we don't get to see-like the parents from Lucina's doomed future. I think about that a lot. So I wrote it. Booyah.

There were few things in Robin’s life that she could remember from before she met Chrom. The brigands who mugged her and knocked her out made that much clear. The whole of her past was a muddled mess, but there were the small things that came out in bursts.

The smile of a woman, the lines around the edges of her eyes, and the dark bags underneath, but the warmth of the gaze and the love in the face were enough to make Robin’s chest tighten. She remembers that love when she looks down at her daughter every day.

There were times they would be on the road and she would remember riding on a horse oh so similar to the one was on, but she was too small to see over it’s head and she would lean against someone as they spoke in soft words to tell her stories of heroes past. She remembers the comfort.

One day when she hears Henry and Tharja talking about being Grimleal to Libra she recognizes one of the prayers they recite. She shivers as the memory of being on her knees, her cloak hiding her face as a woman by her side begged her to mutter along with the group. To never let on that they weren’t a part of the group. She remembers that fear.

She looks at the chess set she plays against Morgan on and when she sits across from her son as watches as he leans forward. She remembers the muscle memory of gripping the sides of her chair and leaning forward, swinging her legs as she planned her next move. She remembers the jubilation at figuring out her next move and she sees that on her son’s face it is clearer than she has ever felt before.

She never dwells on the memory for too long, not with a war to worry about and two young children to raise. She has new memories now. Like Chrom’s smile after a hard fought battle, or his hands in her own at the end of the day. Meals with the Shepherds in the dining hall, where the noise was high, and the laughter loud. The feeling of her daughter’s small hand in hers as they traced the words on a page together. The sound of her voice as she read a newly learnt passage in a book when she was young. The way her son’s hair feels as she ruffles it, or the way his eyes light up after finally learning a new move in chess. The life she chose to lead was filed with more memories than anything she could have wished for in the past. She was glad for having been struck a clean slate.

-

Robin doesn’t remember much of anything now. Her mind is a void as she sleeps. Or at least, what she feels is sleep. Resisting Grima was easier at first, but now, as time went on it got harder and harder to battle with the dragon in her head. She began to fall away, bit by bit. It was the small things to go first.

The faces of the Shepherds in the barracks. What was that one who ate so much? And the one with the axe, who was he? A woman with a dirty mouth surely had been a part of their party, right? And a young boy insisting he as older than he was. Their names and faces fade away despite Robin’s attempts to hold fast to them.

The next to go were all her clever plans. She couldn’t fight her way out of a box at this point. She tried to wrack her brain, create scenarios to fight out of, but nothing would come. Her tactics led her to ruin each time.

She clutched close to her heart the memories of her family. Of her husband who held her tightly, of her daughter with eyes brighter than the sky, and her son who would delight at learning new tactics from her. She held them close, hoping that as long as she could remember them, she would still exist.

When Grima takes her form once more, returning to a past that she can barely remember, she sees once more. For the first time in years she is able to hear something other than the roar of the dragon and the long thrum of her thoughts. She watches as her family approaches her and if she only had the _strength_ to reach out and hold Chrom one more time and tell him how much she loved him, or how proud she was of her daughter-

But Grima is stronger and despite the joy of hearing Chrom’s voice once more, Grima’s laughter at her plight is louder still. She watches herself stand so easily at Chrom’s side and oh, had she truly looked like that? She had forgotten. When had Lucina gone and grown up? She simply could not remember.

She could only watch as she wrought disaster on the lands she lived on. She watches her family and friends struggle and she watches as Grima began to ready himself for the end. It was all she could do to remember her own name and hold on.

Robin. Robin. Robin. _Robin. **Robin.**_

No. She was not giving in to this _damn_ dragon. Not now. Not when the end was so close. Not _ever._

Her mind pushes out and she feels Grima’s discomfort as the party of her trusted comrades fought on it’s back. Her friends. Her family. Surely she had it in her to push one more time. Just once more-

She uses all those memories-all the days laughing around a campfire as Frederick attempts to eat bear meat. All the nights spent with Chrom as they whispered about anything and everything. Her children growing up under their watch. Training in the yard with everyone and cheering each other on. Watching a good plan work. Playing chess. Falling in love. Making friends. _Living._

She pushes past the haze at last and there she is at the end of the tunnel, rushing ahead of Chrom, sword raised. Grima roars as she opens the arms of her puppet of a body and the feeling of the sword through her ribs is euphoric. Freedom is a strange sensation, in the end.

Chrom is screaming, Lucina scrabbling to get closer to her now fading mother, and Morgan is attempting to call for a healer. She smiles, and locks eyes with the her of this time. She is at peace.

“Shall we go then? The two of us?”

“Yes-that was the plan, in the end.”

“Good. It’s nice to know…that a good plan…can still work…”

She feels herself fading away as Grima screeches in her mind as he dies once and for all. Her hand tingles but she isn’t sure if that’s just the sensation of her fading away at last. Her eyes close as Chrom rushed forward to embrace her-or is he going for the other one? It’s hard to tell which is which.

-

“You don’t belong here. You have a whole life ahead of you.”

The other Robin, younger and brighter than she can ever imagine being, sits with her in the sky. She stares at the Robin who endured with curious eyes who points to the back of her hand.

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. It’s gone. You’re free.”

Robin stands, a gate appearing before them, “Tell my daughter and my son that I love them. If you remember this. Tell them I’m sorry for what I put them through. That they should live their lives.”

The younger Robin is about to protest, but another voice interrupts, one that Robin remembers from so long ago. It fills her with warmth.

“She’s right-You’ve got more to do. Go on home.”

His hand falls on her shoulder and she looks up at a face that had aged in countless wars, but was still as gentle as she remembered. His eyes were bright and if tears could manifest here, she would surely be crying. The door before them opens and she leans into his chest.

Ah, she remembers this scent. This chest. These arms.

The light engulfs her and she ceases to have to remember because there is no more to forget, or learn. There is just Chrom’s arms as they finally sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's not much else to say except that I have a lot of feelings about the Ylisse royal family. A Whole Lot of Feelings.


End file.
